


maybe it's me, i'm just crazy, maybe i like that i'm not alright

by notthebigspoon



Series: Brandon and Hobbes [7]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandon is sixteen years old when he finally comes home from the hospital, in the grip of the medications they've spent years pumping into him. He walks around in a daze, drifting somewhere between fantasy and reality. The only time he ever seems to come down, feel centered and grounded, is when he's playing baseball.</p><p>Title taken from I'm Not Alright by Shinedown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe it's me, i'm just crazy, maybe i like that i'm not alright

Brandon is sixteen years old when he finally comes home from the hospital, in the grip of the medications they've spent years pumping into him. He walks around in a daze, drifting somewhere between fantasy and reality. The only time he ever seems to come down, feel centered and grounded, is when he's playing baseball. They say he can't, shouldn't, he's too distracted and it's too physical, he could get hurt. But it focuses him and when he quietly and raspily tells his mother that he wants this, it makes him feel normal, she gives in.

Normal is the magic word in his house. Brandon isn't normal, they all know that. It's important that he _feels_ normal though, so sayeth his shrink.

He does okay sophomore year. Not stellar. His attention span isn't always the greatest and he could be faster. But he contributed and any time he was at a game or at practice was a time where he was fitting in, part of something, helping make something happen. It was the one time that he didn't feel completely fogged by the pills his mom made sure he swallowed every night. By the time the season is over and summer has rolled around, his family is happier with him, letting him have more time alone. They don't watch him like a hawk anymore.

He wants to go to a baseball camp he'd heard about but his mom vetoes it. He joins a summer league to keep out of the house and away from his family, to keep that less clouded feeling.

When his parents go to his grandmother's house for a weekend, they feel confident enough to leave him alone. His mom thinks it's a bad idea but his dad says that at sixteen, they can't keep coddling him and Brandon's grateful for it, so grateful. He takes his medicine dutifully because his dad had gotten him these days alone and made him promise to do at least that much in return. On Sunday, with a game canceled, he spends the day puttering around the attic and digging through old boxes of family pictures.

In the darkest corner of the attic, he finds an old trunk. That's promising. There's always something interesting in things like that. He'd found a quilt one of his great-grandmas had made in a trunk like this, a blue and yellow quilt that calms him and helps him sleep. He jiggles the lid of the trunk, grumbling when it won't open. He kicks it in frustration, jumping when it shatters. He really hopes that trunk didn't mean anything to his mom.

Well. Since it's open now... He drops to his knees and pushes the pieces out of the way. When he reaches inside, he pulls out something that makes him sob on sight. Hobbes. Dusty and musty, in dire need of a wash, but Hobbes. He hasn't seen Hobbes in two years, since his mom hid Hobbes and Brandon flipped out and they called the hospital and had him physically dragged out of his house. He pitches Hobbes away, buries his face in his knees and sobs.

A heavy thump between his shoulders makes him cry harder, as does the purr and the nuzzle of a head against his cheek. He opens his eyes, glancing over at Hobbes and choking as the sobs die down with a gulp. “You're bigger.”

“So are you. I missed you. Thought I'd never get out of that stupid box.”

“So did I.” Brandon answers. He thinks of the hospital and starts crying again. He throws his arms around Hobbes and hangs on tight, burying his face in his best friend's shoulder. Two years apart was too long. He doesn't care how crazy they think he is, he's not letting them take Hobbes away again.

He takes Hobbes downstairs and helps him get cleaned up from two years in a stupid box. He makes them a massive pile of tuna sandwiches and they eat until they're almost sick. When his mom and dad come home late that night, he's sprawled out on the couch with Hobbes tucked against his chest, watching Fresh Prince of Bel-Air reruns. His mom asks him where he found that, angry and near tears. His father looks angry, betrayed.

He'd anticipated this. It's hard, lost in the fog, but Hobbes had coached him and told him what to say, how to handle it. Just pretend he's normal. They'd slowly wean Brandon off the medication and he could get back to his real normal, not a chemical fog that robbed him of everything he really was. He tells his mom he found Hobbes and he'd kind of missed him. No, Hobbes doesn't talk anymore, he never did. His parents relax. They don't take Hobbes away but Brandon knows they wish that they could come up with an excuse to.

The thing with the medication takes longer. They watch him like a hawk now that Hobbes is back. He googles how to avoid taking medicine and learns how to cheek and tongue it properly until he can flush it away later.. The taste is horrible but it's worth it. The gray fog that clouds his life starts to slip away and he starts seeing in color again, bright and sharp. He gets happy, starts laughing and smiling instead of sedately shuffling through life.

He gets better at baseball. Much better, really, becomes an active asset to the team. Really, until he's graduated and is on his way to UCLA, life is perfect. Things don't start going wrong until two weeks before he leaves for school. He's going through his stuff for the millionth time, deciding what to take and what to leave. Hobbes is sitting on the bed, criticizing his packing and asking if he really needs all of his video game systems when he only plays one of them. He has his back to Hobbes, unpacking the systems because maybe Hobbes is right.

He turns around and then jumps, dropping all of the games in his hands. His mom is standing in the doorway, tears in her eyes and when he says a shaky 'Mom?' she starts sobbing, telling him she knew it was a mistake letting him have Hobbes back, she'd thought he was better, he was doing so well. She says she's going to go call Doctor Stinson, they'll take care of this, they'll fix this. They come get him. He spends three days in the hospital on an involuntary hold. He checks himself out the third day because at eighteen, his parents can't have him confined and he's been deemed not to be a danger to himself or others.

Going back to his parents house is the worst part. His truck is his own, a present in his own name when he'd turned eighteen because his dad had been so proud of the progress Brandon had supposedly made. He finishes packing his things and loads the truck up, refusing to speak to his parents. The last thing he takes is Hobbes, who he'd managed to hide before the doctors had come. He shoves past his parents with his best friend under his arm. Hobbes rides in the passenger seat on the way to UCLA.

He doesn't speak to his parents for two years. He emails with his sisters and sees them on vacations. They might think he's nuts but that doesn't make any of this their fault. He spends vacations working in various places, anything to keep from going back to Pleasanton. When he's drafted, his sisters are so proud that they throw a party and beg him to come back. He can't say no. They're the only members of his family that he still actually likes.

He starts repairing his relationship with his family then. As he makes his way through the minor leagues, it stays fractured but he talks to them more, bit by bit, tries to become part of their lives again. As angry as he is at his parents, as much as he feels like he hates them sometimes, he starts pretending he's okay again. He says he's taking medicine again and seeing a good doctor, tells all the right lies to make his mom happy again. She's thrilled when he gets married and heartbroken when he gets divorced, though she never learns the truth about why Jalynne left. Brandon would rather she think he was a cheater than know that it was because Jalynne found out he's 'crazy'.

Now, sitting on the bed of his and Buster's hotel room with his chin on his knees, anxious and nervous, he thinks back on his life, his relationship with his family and his confinement, the way he still has nightmares about it. The last time he was apart from Hobbes for any length of time was the three day hold before he left for college. Tonight, Hobbes has just been with Sandoval. Probably had a great time but still. He's been _away_ and a night of awesome sex or not, Brandon wants him back, needs him back. He almost falls off the bed at the knock on the door, stumbling over his feet getting to it while Buster laughs around his toothbrush in the bathroom.

He opens the door and Sandoval is standing there with Hobbes by his side, both of them beaming. The second the door is open wide enough, Hobbes pounces Brandon. Brandon staggers under the weight but holds on and hugs back, beaming as he buries his face into Hobbes's neck. He feels like he's come full circle, laughing instead of crying this time.

“I missed you.”

“Missed you too.”

“Awww.” Sandoval coos. “This is adorable.”

“Shut up Pablo or I'm telling them about you know who.”

“... sorry Hobbes.”


End file.
